Look At Me
by Nabakza
Summary: Severus Snape has loved Lily Evans for his whole life. But what happens when he finally comes to terms with her death? CharityBurbage/SeverusSnape
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I own nothing. Everything is J.K. Rowling's. Reviews would be great. Thanks**

"Severus!" The voice called from behind him again, causing him to sigh. Why couldn't he have a moment alone? Just one moment where people were not bugging him about trivial things. "Severus wait!" He closed his eyes and stopped walking.

"What is it Miss Burbage?" He asked, turning slightly to look at her. "I have classes to plan."

The woman, apparently unperturbed by Snape's icy tone, bounded up along side of him and smiled pleasantly. "Oh Severus, don't be such a buzz kill. We both know you already have your lessons planned through the next week at the least." She continued smiling at him is if they were best of friends, and even slipped her arm through his as they walked. "Anyway, you have to make time for me today Severus, as I am here on official Hogwarts business." Snape stopped attempting to extract his arm and instead stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"What?" She laughed. "You don't think I am important enough to be trusted with the official business of Hogwarts?" She laughed again as she watched his perpetual frown deepen. Severus noticed, not for the first time, how familiar Charity Burbage's eyes were.

"Well?" he asked, snapping himself out of his musing on her eyes. "What 'official business of Hogwarts' are you here for?" They had reached the Entrance Hall by now, and had stopped walking. Snape detangled himself from her grasp, and turned to face her directly.

Charity's eyes flickered for a moment, but her smile stayed true. "There are actually two things. Number one, Professor Dumbledore requests to see you in his office when you get a moment. And number two is Professor Sprout would like to know if you are coming to the gathering tomorrow night. She said she needed a rough headcount to know how much bean dip to bring."

Snape sighed again, of course the headmaster wanted to talk with him. Dumbledore always had a knack for knowing when Snape was feeling down. And as for why Pomona had the young woman to ask if he were attending the gathering, it was beyond him. He had not gone to one of them since he had first started his job as Potions Master ten years before. Of course, Charity Burbage had no reason to know that, this being her first year teaching at Hogwarts. Maybe that is why she asked, maybe Professor Sprout had just become tired of asking, but didn't want him to be put out for not getting an invitation - not that he would be in the slightest. Maybe Sprout thought that this woman, with her never ending smiles and beautifully familiar eyes could somehow entice him to go.

He looked at the Muggle Studies Professor again, trying to avoid staring into her eyes for too long. "Thank you, Professor Burbage. I shall attend to the Headmaster's request right away. As for the gathering-" His words were cut off as laughter eschewed from across the Hall. Harry Potter and his friends, who had been laughing hysterically over something, all fell silent under Snape's quelling gaze. The Potter boy looked away and they all exited the Hall quietly, leaving behind a stunned Severus Snape.

His eyes, Lily Evans' eyes, Charity Burbage's eyes. That is why they looked so familiar. They were the exact shade of green, _the_ green. They were Lily Evans green. Snape gasped a startled breath and excused himself from the other professor, walking quickly towards Dumbledore's office.

…...

"Is there something the matter Severus?" Dumbledore asked, peering over the top of _Transfiguration Today_ to watch Snape fidget. The poor man had a dazed look in his eyes, which frequently switched from furious to sad and then back to dazed at least ten times per minute. Albus Dumbledore watched as Severus sputtered about eyes and parties for a few seconds, before standing up and pacing.

"Is something the matter! What isn't the matter? Every _Bloody thing is the matter!" _He continued ranting about eyes and counting beans until Dumbledore stopped him, truly worried for his Potions Master's mental state.

"Severus, how about we talk about something different? The weather maybe, or what you think of Harry?"

This only seemed to trigger yet more pacing, and finally Snape proclaiming; "That boy has no real talent, he is 'mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent-" He continued in this manner for so long that Dumbledore returned to reading his magazine, hoping that Snape would wear himself out. He finally stopped, and without ever lifting his eyes from the magazine, Dumbledore said; "You see what you expect to see, Severus. Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child." He turned the page, ignoring the seething Snape and finally getting to the point of the meeting said; "Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you." Snape muttered an agreement, and was about to leave when Dumbledore said "You should really go to that gathering this year Severus. The company is good, and Pomona's bean dip is to die for."

**If anyone who reviews would go to **_www . freerice . com _**and earn a few grains of rice for the hungry by answering multiple choice vocab questions, it would be really awesome. If you do, then please tell me in the review. Thanks a Bunch!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. : So I own nothing. HP world belongs to J.K. Rowling. Reviews would be Totally **_**Awesome**_**.**

Snape could not believe that he was doing this. After the fiasco ten years before, he had sworn to himself that he would never set foot at another Post-Start-Of-Term gathering. And really, what was the point of them? A room full of people who they had seen every day for a month already, gossiping about their students and fellow colleagues alike. Yet here he was, walking in a defeated manner towards the staff room, preparing for three hours of forced socializing and babysitting that sniveling Quirrell.

He sighed, how had that pathetic lump gotten the Dark Arts job and not him? Snape was fully qualified for the position, more than fully qualified. _Which is why Dumbledore won't let me have it. _He thought wryly. He sighed again, seeing the room before him. After pausing for a brief second to collect himself, he pushed the door open and entered the room.

As expected, every other member of the staff was congregated in the magically expanded room, even the reclusive Professor Trelawney. What was completely unexpected was that all talking stopped the moment he walked through the door. Everyone stared for one heartbeat until Dumbledore's voice eschewed from across the room, "Ah, Severus, you came. Good."

There was another brief pause before the talking resumed, but Snape still felt out of place as he moved farther into the room. He had moved past half of his fellow teachers when he felt a hand grab his upper arm and drag him to a stop. He turned to look at the perpetrator, only to find Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall, and Rolanda Hooch standing shoulder to shoulder behind him. He mentally balked at the sight, reminded suddenly of his first year attending this gathering. Where every single person, sans those three and Dumbledore, had pointedly ignored him.

"Professors," He said, nodding in their direction. "What may I do for you?"

McGonagall and Madam Hooch smiled as Pomona reached up and, to his chagrin, patted his cheek in a motherly fashion. "Oh Severus, we are so happy that you came!"

"Yah Snape, did you just forget to come all those other years?" Rolanda laughed in her rough way, causing McGonagall to frown

"Rolanda. You know perfectly well why Severus did not attend any of the past gatherings. And I can certainly understand why he would refrain from doing so." At this her frown deepened. "Such childish behavior I have never before seen from grown men and women!" Her eyes, which had been shooting daggers at the other professors, rested on his again. "But for the life of me, I can not understand what made you finally show up to this one."

Severus, not at all perturbed by her stare or the knowing smile being shared by Pomona and Rolanda, shrugged. "The headmaster asked me to come. Otherwise, I would not be here." He watched as the three women frowned. And then asked, "Have any of you seen Quirrell? I have to inform him of something."

The women's expressions all changed to thoughtfulness before revealing that they had not seen the man in question all night, but not to worry, because they were sure that he would show up sooner or later. Snape edged away from them, looking for either the silly turban of Quirrell, or the identifying white hair of Albus Dumbledore. His search was cut short, however, when a pair of startling green eyes popped up in front of him.

"Severus! I was worried you weren't coming!" Charity Burbage smiled up at him, then grabbed his hand and commenced to pulling him across the room. "Come on. You have to see the layout they've got at the food table! It's incredible."

Snape frowned. He was supposed to be keeping an 'eye on Quirrell' not looking at the way food was spread on a table. Luckily, when they reached said table, Professor Dumbledore was already there, filling his plate with cubed cheese and copious amounts of been dip.

…...

Dumbledore smiled at the two Professors; one looking extremely disheveled, the other thoroughly pleased; and continued to place more dip onto his depressingly small party plate. When he had added enough, he turned to face the other two. "Good evening Severus, Miss. Burbage. Isn't it a shame that Professor Quirrell could not be here tonight?"

He watched as Snape frowned and Charity Burbage's trademark smile turn into a sympathizing one. And, like that, an idea struck him. "Severus, why don't you and our lovely Professor here take a plate to the poor man. No one should miss out on Professor Sprout's delicious bean dip." He looked down at his tiny plate, already filled to the brim, and added "On second though, take two plates."


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. : I own nothing, HP belongs to J.K. Rowling. Thanks for reading. Reviews would be great. And thanks to Mrs. SRE Snape for reviewing :)**

Everything was quiet as they walked down the halls together, which completely threw Snape. Charity Burbage was _quiet_. Was that even possible? Was she ill? Had he done something to make her so mute? He looked over at her, only to see her smiling down towards the plate she carried as if it had just told her a funny joke. Snape rolled his eyes, wondering, for the hundredth time, just how crazy the woman was.

They made the whole trip in silence, and Snape knocked three times on the door to Quirrell's room. After a few moments he knocked again, louder this time. But still, no one answered. Snape felt his patience waning, and decided that it didn't matter if Quirrell was so sick he had to crawl, the man was going to answer this door if it killed him. He was raising his hand to knock again, when his companion grabbed his arm.

"What if he's not in there Severus? He could be in the Hospital wing, or maybe he's in his office? When I'm sick I don't always stay in my room." Her eyes were closed, almost in a grimace, when he turned to her. And if that were not odd enough, the urge to ask what was wrong was so strong that he actually had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The look on his face must have given him away though, because she quickly smiled her blinding trademark and apologized, saying she was just remembering what it felt like to be sick and how she hoped Quirrell was okay.

"I'm sure he is just fine Miss. Burbage." He said frostily, still feeling off. He pulled his wand from his front pocket and aimed it at the door.

"Wait, Severus. What are you doing? And knock off the 'Miss. Burbage' garbage. It's not like you don't know that my name is Charity." She let go of his arm and placed her free hand on her hip, angry eyes fixed on his face, it was all rather funny.

"Well, _Charity_, I was about to check if Professor Quirrell is actually here or not. If that is alright with you. Or should I walk about the school calling out 'Quirenus!' until he answers?" He asked scathingly.

There was a pause, a soft thump, and the sound of a party plate hitting the floor behind him, the next thing he knew, he was wearing bean dip down his right arm. He turned slowly, looking from his dirty sleeve to the fuming Muggle Studies teacher, with raised eyebrows.

"You're lucky you're so tall Severus." The woman nearly growled, shooting daggers at him. "Otherwise that would have been running off the top of your head." And with that, she stomped off down the hall, threw open a door, and disappeared inside.

…...

She could not believe that he had been such a jerk. She had never been less than friendly toward him, she even went out of her way to greet him in the hallways, and tried to make pleasant conversation during meals. Sure, he had never seemed thrilled to talk with her, but he had never acted like _that_ before.

Charity sat down on the chair by the window, picked up her hairbrush, and went to work on a snarl that had cropped up in her long, wavy, blonde hair. She flicked her wand and music began playing from the radio on her shelf. After ten minuets of listening, any hope of it calming her down was dashed by a knock on her door.

She stomped across her room and threw the door open, revealing a very stiff-backed Potion's Master. His perpetual frown was deeper than usual, and instead of making eye contact, he stared over her right shoulder, as if he were embarrassed. But instead of apologizing, or at least admitting to being in the wrong, he simply said; "He was not there, nor in his office, classroom, or the Hospital Wing. You had said, that when you are sick, you do not always stay in your room." At this his eyes flicked to hers and back to her shoulder.

"So," She asked, glaring at him. "you are wondering where I would be if I were sick tonight?" _Jeeze he looks uncomfortable. _She added to herself.

He seemed to draw in a heavy breath before answering. "Yes. I also believe I owe you an apology, as I was unquestionably rude to you."

Charity huffed, pretending to weigh the pro's and con's of forgiving him in her head. After a bit, she said; "Fine Severus, I forgive you. But only if you promise to call me Charity and not 'Miss. Burbage'. It reminds me too much of when I was still in school at Salem."

He raised an eyebrow. "You went to school at the Salem Witches Institute?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I had always thought you went to Beauxbatons, what with the slight French accent you sometimes have." He said, finally looking her directly in the eye.

"No, I went to school at Salem, but I grew up in Canada. I though I had gotten rid of it by now." She frowned. "I've lived in England for seven years since graduation. I just figured my accent was replaced with this one." Was it just her imagination, or did Snape actually look sad while he looked at her?

He stared at her for a few seconds, then seemed to come back to himself. "Well, back to the original topic. Where would you be if you were sick right now?"

"Ummm, if I were not here, in the Hospital Wing, my classroom, or office," She paused, deliberating, "I would either be in the Library getting a book, in the kitchens getting something healthy, or on the roof." She paused again, seeing the blank look that had spread across he features. "Probably in that order."

"The roof?" He finally asked, in a disbelieving tone.

"Oh, yes!" She smiled. "The roof is a wonderful place to be when you are sick. First off there is a always an abundance of fresh air, a great view, and it is actually very peaceful up there." Charity did not wait for him to stop looking so incredulous, but instead shut her door, grabbed his hand, and led him off toward the Library.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long. I've had practice every day, and my concert is tomorrow, so this chapter may be short and bad. Reviews are appreciated. And thanks again to Mrs. SRE Snape for reviewing. I do not own anything Harry Potter, these characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Thanks.**

He could not believe he was doing this. Just sitting here, drinking tea, on the roof. It was hard enough to believe that he was doing it at all, but add in the fact that he was sitting next to an extremely pretty woman with eyes exactly like his dead childhood friend, and it goes completely insane. And what was the point of staying up here anymore? It was fairly obvious that Quirrell was not on the roof, but Charity Burbage had decided to wait up here for him, just incase. She had said that Snape didn't have to stay, that he could go and look elsewhere if he really wanted, but here he was, still on the roof.

Snape pursed his lips and stared off towards the distant forest. _Maybe _I_ am sick. _He mused._ Maybe I am so sick that my mind is processing sitting here as enjoyable. Or maybe I am just losing it. _He paused, mulling over the idea. _Dramatic emotional suffering is known to cause insanity. But doesn't the insanity occur directly after the event? Surely it would not take 10 years for the symptoms to crop up. _He sighed and rubbed his fingers along his temple, trying to push away the headache that had formed due to the frustration he had been fighting all night. Quirrell was turning out to be a very elusive sick man, and Snape was growing tired of looking for him.

Snape made to grab his tea cup from next to him, but misjudged the distance, and accidentally sent it toppling off the roof and down onto the ground below. He froze and just stared at the place where the cup had disappeared, anger and embarrassment filling his mind. _Really, what are the chances of that happening? I look like an even bigger idiot than before._ He thought, while at the same time wishing he had a time turner. He looked over at the other professor and frowned. She was shaking with silent laughter, hands grabbing her abdomen, literally rolling back and forth. Her eyes were shut tight, tears streaming down her cheeks, but instead of feeling angry or embarrassed, Snape suddenly felt himself wanting to laugh along with her.

He almost smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, when movement caught his eye. He reached over and grabbed Charity's arm, trying to quiet down her now not-so-silent laughter. The noise stopped immediately, and Snape pointed toward the base of the Forbidden Forest, where a cloaked figure had just emerged.

…...

One minute she had been laughing hysterically at the look of incredulity, anger, and what seemed to be embarrassment that had been on his face; and the next she felt a hand on her upper arm. She was so shocked that she forgot to continue laughing, and when she looked over at him, she could have sworn that there was a ghost of a smile on Snape's lips.

After taking this in, Charitly realized that Severus was pointing at something, eyes focused on the distance. When she turned to look, she saw a hooded man walking away from the forest, a hood over his overly large and lumpy head.

"That has to be Quirrell." She whispered softly. "He's the only person I know of who has a head shaped like that." She looked over at Snape again, this time realizing that he still had not let go of her arm. She swallowed loudly, and suddenly began to find the night air unseasonably warm.

Snape did not take his eyes off of Quirrell, but whispered back, "Sick men do not usually walk into the Forbidden Forest for a midnight stroll." His black eyes flicked over to hers and he frowned, he lowered his hand and set it down next to him, clenched in a fist. "But… Charity," His mouth twitched slightly. "I believe you are correct. I know no other man who is crazy enough to wear a turban 24/7."

"Well, what was he doing in the Forbidden Forest if he is sick?" She asked, averting her eyes from his and staring at the approaching figure. "Actually, what would he be doing in the Forest if he _isn't _sick?"

"That," he said softly, "is an excellent question."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I own nothing, all J. K. Rowling's. Please review, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks. (And sorry about the bold, but it didn't really work with the italic and the regular.)

_Her parents had been killed when she was 13 years old. She remembered it vividly, of course she did. It was the most horrific thing that had ever happened to her in all of her 24 years. _

_She and her older brother Russell, had just come home for Easter vacation. They had done their usual Easter-y things, and on the Eve, Charity had gone to bed sure that when she woke up, it would be just as normal and pleasant as any Easter before. But what she had not counted on, was waking up to flashes, bangs, and Russell frantically shaking her._

"_We have to go!" He had said, his wand was out, his eyes wild, and cheeks wet. "Mom and Dad say we have to go!" He waved his wand and her trunk levitated off toward the apparition safe room._

_Charity remembered her eyes bulging at his blatant law breaking, and remembered being pulled out of bed. She remembered her wand being shoved into her hand, and them both running toward the safe room. But what she remembered most, was looking out the windows as she ran, and seeing hooded figures appearing out of the darkness, closely followed by the sound of someone familiar screaming out in pain and flashes of green light._

_That day had haunted Charity Burbage in her dreams for 11 years. A reoccurring nightmare that started with her brother waking her up, and ended with her watching as hooded figures emerging and pointing their wands toward her racing heart._

**"Severus?" She asked softly, eyes still on the distant figure, heart beating just a bit too fast. "Should we go see if he's alright?" Her eyes flicked over to his, and she saw them darken just a bit before he looked away and straitened up.**

**"Yes, Charity, we should."**

**She swallowed loudly and tried to calm herself. This was not her nightmare. This was a good dream. She was helping a sick man, and she was having pleasant conversation with Severus Snape along the way. Yes, this would definitely constitute as good dream.**

…...

_He and Lily had met at the children's park between their houses. They had been friends for ages, and she was the only one he could come to at times like this._

"_Oh Sev." She whispered, looking at his blackened eyes and bleeding lips. "Was he drunk again?"_

_He nodded and sat back down on the swing. He watched as she took the seat next to him, and as she started twisting the swing back and forth. He watched as she twirled around in circles, and as she tried not to cry. He watched as she finally stopped spinning, and he watched as she gasped and pointed down the hill that had a clear view of a stream about a mile away._

_Snape turned just in time to see his father fall into the water, struggle drunkenly up the bank, and lay down on his back, sopping wet and coughing._

_He turned back to Lily, who's beautiful eyes held fear, anger, and sadness. "Severus?" She had whispered. "Should we go see if he's alright?"_

_He tore his gaze away from her green one, and looked back toward his father. "No, Lily, we shouldn't."_

_The next day the muggle police had shown up on his doorstep, all with solemn faces. His father had been found dead by the river that morning. That day had stayed with Severus Snape for almost 2 decades, his mother's sobs haunting his dreams, the constant 'what if's' scratching at the back of his mind._

**How could he not go down and check up on the pitiful Quirrell. Especially after looking at Charity and recognizing that mixture of fear, anger, and sadness in her green eyes. After remembering what happened the last time that question was asked of him. After remembering what happened when he had answered 'no'.**

**He saw Quirrell stumble along the path, and swallowed the unwelcome feelings that had cropped up.**

**"Yes, Charity," He whispered back. "we should."**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I own nothing. J. K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter things. Thanks to MysteriousMagicalMuse for reviewing!**

They walked quietly through the front doors of the castle and stepped into the night air once again. Snape's eyes were trained on the approaching Quirrell, but his mind was still racing, trying to understand what was going on. _I am just being paranoid._ He thought to himself. _There is no reason to start panicking just because Quirrell decided to go for a little moonlit stroll._

But then another thought crossed through his head. _Do sick people usually go for a jaunt in the Forbidden Forest at night? And I'm not 'panicking'. I'm just being cautious. Dumbledore must have a reason to want Quirrell watched._ Snape closed his eyes tightly and clenched his hands into fists. His headache was getting worse.

He opened his eyes again and they were immediately drawn to the professor walking along next to him. For the third time tonight Charity Burbage was as quiet as a mouse. But this silence seemed to be because of fear, not her internal musings or her simply enjoying the view from the roof. The poor woman was clearly nervous, staring at everything they passed like it was going to grab her. Her slight frame was clearly shaking, and her eyes were wide and flighty. And again, Snape squashed the need to ask what was bothering her. Instead he focused on Quirrell, who had just spotted them and stopped abruptly.

_Guilt._ Snape thought, his eyes narrowing. _And Fear. He looks like a stunned doxy. What was the old Muggle saying? Ah, yes, 'like a deer in the headlights'. _He smiled slightly, but stopped as he heard a laugh come from the woman next to him. He raised an eyebrow in question and frowned.

"You're right, Severus. He does look like a deer caught in the headlights." She laughed quietly. "But where did you learn a muggle metaphor?"

Snape frowned, embarrassed by his spoken thoughts. "I was friends with a muggleborn while in school." He said sharply. Trying to forget how similar Charity's and Lily's eyes were.

"Ah." She said, returning to her fear filled shadow watching.

They were only a handful of steps away form Quirrell now, and Snape could swear that Quirrell was whispering hurriedly to himself. It sounded like; "-eep him there until the Halloween Feast."

Snape and Charity came to a stop in front of him, and Quirrell threw back his hood in order to see them both.

"P-P-Professors S-Snape and Burbage!" He stuttered loudly. "What a p-p-pleasant surprise!"

Snape scoffed as he watched Charity smile at the meek man. "Yes, Quirrell. Very… _Pleasant." _He sneered. "Professor Dumbledore asked us to take some food to you, as you were too sick to make it to the party. Unfortunatly, the food did not make it here." He looked pointedly at Charity, who had gone suddenly red. "Although some of it seems to be on my robe's sleeve." He turned back to Quirrell. "May I ask why you are walking about the grounds at midnight, when you were too sick to even make it to a party only an hour ago?"

…...

Quirrell was fidgetting. Literally rocking back and forth from foot to foot. His fingers worrying at the corner of his sleeve. Charity watched as he lifted his hood back up over his turban, which was slightly askew. She didn't hear the excuse that he gave to Severus, as, again, she smelled the mixture of old socks and dirty public toilets that is distinctive to Mountain Trolls. Her brow furrowed, and she took a step closer to the now shaking man.

"Quirenus," She asked softly. "why do you smell like a Mountain Troll?" She saw both men stiffen, and heard Snape fall as Quirrell cast a spell. He spun his wand towards Charity, pointed it at her heart, and then everything went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I own nothing. J. K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Reviews would be **_**Wonderful**_**!**

Charity woke up cheerfully at six o'clock sharp as she did every day and yawned. She looked toward her window and stretched her arms up over her head, finally noticing how sore she was, as if she'd been hit by an enraged hippogriff. She frowned, trying to remember if she had been wrestling with any hippogriffs the night before, but her mind suddenly hit up against what seemed to be a wall in her head, and she felt a sharp pain. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her hands on either side of her head, and someone was shaking her.

"Miss. Burbage! Charity!" The squeaky voice called, sounding thoroughly alarmed. "Charity Burbage!"

She groaned and sat up, rubbing her head. "Ugg." She said hoarsely. "What in the bloody hell happened?"

"Well, Charity, I was just going to ask _you_." Came the high pitched voice of Professor Flitwick, who was standing right next to her, finally at eye level. "I heard you scream as if someone had used an Unforgivable Curse on you. And when I came to see if you were all right, you were passed out on the floor with both hands grabbing your hair in a death grip!"

Charity rubbed her head again and then remembered what she had been doing before she was unconscious. "I woke up and noticed that I felt off, so I tried to remember what I had been doing last night… but I can't rememb-" She went blank again, this time barely keeping conscious through the unexpected pain. She could dimly hear Professor Flitwick calling her name again, and her vision swirled around again before righting itself.

"My dear," the tiny man said worriedly. "I think we should get you to the Hospital Wing strait away! Minerva has just taken Severus there not even ten minutes ago with the same symptoms that you have.

…...

Severus Snape awoke at quarter to six in one of the most gloomy moods he had ever experienced. It was even worse than waking up with a hangover only to be stunned, and then waking up from _that_. He groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore how awful he felt in hope of getting a bit more sleep before his normal seven thirty alarm. Only after he was almost asleep again, did he wonder what could have made him feel so badly. He searched back to the night before, realizing that the last thing he remembered was walking out of the Library with Charity Burbage, before his thoughts were forcibly stopped and extreme pain shot through his head like his brain was trying to apparate without him.

When he woke up again, it was to find that he was now on the floor next to his bed, and Minerva McGonagall's face took up his whole line of vision. She appeared to be shaking him, and her face was set so she could have either been worried or miffed.

"Severus!' She exclaimed, realizing that he had come to. "What happened? Why were you screaming? And why are you on the floor?"

He blinked a couple of times and sat up stiffly. Minerva remained kneeling beside him as he rested his head on his bedside table. "I don't know. I was trying to remember what I did before I went to b-" His mind went blank with pain again as he tried to recall, once again, what he had done after going to the library. Had he and Charity ever made it to the roof? Had they ever found Quirrell? _Why can't I remember?_

…_..._

Albus Dumbledore had woken up that morning, fully intent on dawdling around until the sun came up over the top of the trees, walking slowly to the Great Hall, eating a marvelous breakfast, thanking the House Elves, and then starting his duties as Headmaster. What he had not counted on, was his Flying Instructor banging through his office door at ½ past six and exclaiming that his Potions Master and Muggle Studies Professor were both in the Hospital wing suffering from some sort of memory loss.

He swept through the castle, down four flights of stairs to the Hospital wing and found the place in a state of discord. Almost every teacher was there, crowded around two beds in the middle of the room, upon which were a slightly hysterical Charity Burbage, and a blank faced Severus Snape.

"Albus!" Minerva cried thankfully, walking briskly over to him. "Whenever they try to remember what they did last night, they experience some sort of mental block and pass out!" She pursed her lips almost angrily and began thinking aloud some of the things that could have caused it. Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore walked over to Snape and sat down on the edge of his bed, staring into the man's black eyes.

"Headmaster." Snape said in greeting. "I trust you know what can fix us."

Dumbledore smiled at the man. "Yes, Severus. I am fairly certain that this is just a badly done Memory Charm. I would try to remove them, but one never knows how much damage it could do." He looked over at Charity and tried to calm her with a smile. "So, I think if I just put up a small block around it, you should both be able to slide right over it like it was not there. No more pain, no more blacking out. Unfortunately, by doing this, we will never know what happened to you both last night." He raised an eyebrow waiting for a response.

Snape frowned and sighed. "That is fine Professor. But is there no way to figure out what happened?"

"Oh there are many ways to find the truth, but none that would ensure the safety of yours and Miss. Burbage's sanity afterwards. And I really do not wish to search for both a new Potions Master and a Muggle Studies Professor at the same time."

"I'm sure the paperwork would be awful as well Professor." Charity smiled a painful version of her usual beam. "Maybe you should just put up the block. This really does hurt." She grimaced and closed her eyes tightly.

"Well, Charity, if you would stop trying to remember, maybe it would not be so painful." Snape nearly growled, clearly annoyed.

"Well, Severus, maybe if we were not currently talking about it I wouldn't be thinking about it. Not all of us have complete control over everything like you apparently do." She spat back, and uncharacteristically frowned, turning her head away.

Dumbledore, sensing that Snape was about to respond in a way that would not cast him in a good light, cleared his throat and asked if they would like for him to begin. The professors assented and soon, everyone was back in their own rooms, preparing for the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: So sorry about the long wait! I've been writing/reading for school, plus I really wasn't inspired to write the next chapter until today. And to tell you the truth, I still wasn't that inspired. Writing this was like squeezing a penny through a pin-hole. It's possible, but you've got to go out of your way to buy a giant pin first. So, if you hate it. I will completely understand.**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all Madame Rowling's**_

The rest of the month went by without a hitch, and Charity finally stopped being paranoid to the point of jumping whenever someone walked through her classroom door. She and Severus had talked multiple times, trying to remember anything that they could about that night, swapping stories about what they remembered doing last. She could recall all the way up to Snape knocking his cup off the roof, but after that, it was all black.

Her friends were very supportive. Even Quirenus came and visited with her multiple times a week. He was being so sweet. Always asking weather she was able to remember anything else, and comforting her when she became depressed about it. She felt bad after a while though. Here she was, crying about not being able to remember a couple hours of her life, and poor Quirrell could barely talk. Soon, she stopped complaining about herself and started asking more questions concerning him. Of course, he just seemed to get even more riled up.

"Quirenus," She said one day, the night before Halloween. "May I ask you a question? It may be personal and I don't want to pry."

The man stared at her for a moment, as if lost. But finally came to himself and nodded in his shaky fashion. "Of-of course Ch-Ch-Charity! Y-you can ask m-me anyth-thing!"

"Are you certain? I don't want you to become uncomfortable." She couldn't help but notice that Quirrell was fidgeting with his cloak sleeve. And suddenly, a scene swam through her head, of a cloaked man fidgeting with his robes. She shoved it away into the back of her mind. Meanwhile, she had totally missed what her shaky friend had said, and decided that it was something along the lines of 'Of course I don't mind Charity. Ask away.'

"Well, I've always wanted to know, but I didn't know how to ask you without seeming rude. But, Quirenus, why do you-" She stopped mid-sentence, as she had just seen Severus Snape enter the Staff Room and sit in one of the chairs, nose promptly in a book. "Hello Severus!" She called happily. Feeling completely at ease, unlike Quirrell, who began shaking even harder.

"Well, anyway Dear," Charity said, returning to the conversation, having successfully gotten a greeting from Snape. "I was just wondering, Why do you smell like a Mountain Troll?"

Quirrell froze, and Snape stood up abruptly, stalking out of the room while muttering something about public places. Charity shrugged, and returned to looking at her suddenly pale friend. "Oh! I'm sorry! Did I offend you? I just wondered, because you always had an odd smell about you, and I just wondered if you did it on purpose, or something." She apologized rather lamely.

Quirrell seemed to become less tense as she spoke, and just frowned at her on a sad way. "W-well, I have this s-sk-skin condition which m-m-makes my s-skin s-smell odd. I d-d-didn't know that it w-w-was that b-bad. I apologize."

She immediately told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of, and that maybe Madame Pomfrey could fix it. She excused herself quickly, quite embarrassed, and went down to the kitchens for a soothing cup of tea and a nice sit on the roof.

…...

"Why do you smell like a Mountain Troll?" He heard her ask from across the room. And quite suddenly, a memory of her asking the exact same question popped into his head. But instead of being accompanied by the sights and sounds of the Staff Room, the memory provided a look at the grounds under a starry sky.

Snape flung himself out of the chair and walked briskly toward the door. "This is from that night. She asked that question that night. I can't think about this in such a public place. I need to tell Albus."

He climbed up to the Headmaster's office, gave the password, and rode the staircase up to the door. He was about to knock, when the doors were thrown open, and a very irate looking Lucius Malfoy exited. He swept past Snape with only a head nod, and quickly disappeared down the stairs.

Severus entered the office, closing the door behind him, and turned to face Dumbledore, who was softly stroking Fawkes' head. The bird, noticing Snape, let out a happy sound and flew over to land on his shoulder. Lost in thought, he sat down across form the desk and ran through everything he had just figured out. He looked up as the Headmaster sat across from him, and without prompting, revealed what he had learned.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Sorry about the ungodly amount of time it has been since I last updated. This is my senior year in High School, so I'm super busy. But as it is Christmas Break I have found some time. Do forgive me.**

_**Disclaimer- I own nothing. The characters and world are all J. K. Rowling's.**_

Snape walked briskly down the hallway, intent on finding Quirrell and spying on him for the next hour before the feast, when he was suddenly tugged sideways into a dark classroom. He immediately pulled out his wand, aiming it at the bulky shape standing before him. He heard a frightened squeak as the wand jabbed into something soft, and the lights flicked on to reveal a very startled Charity Burbage.

"Severus," she said, eyes still wide. "I would really appreciate it if you would remove your wand from my stomach." When he did, she breathed a sigh of relief and sat down next to him. "I apologize if I startled you by dragging you in here, but I had to ask you something."

Snape frowned and glared at her. "You couldn't have waited until the feast to talk? We would have had plenty of time then, and I am rather busy at the moment." He began to stand up, but was forcefully pushed back into his chair. He had a moment to marvel at how strong she was before she began talking.

"I don't know how much you recall from that night on the first of October, but remember how I could only remember up until you dropped your cup off the roof?" Shape nodded in ascent, wondering if he should tell her that he now remembered everything from that night but decided against is. "Well, I was talking to Qurienus this morning in the Staff Room and I was suddenly able to remember standing next to you as Quirrell fidgeted with his robes. Do you think that has anything to do with what happened to us?"

She was giving him such an earnest look that Snape really had no choice but to tell her everything that had happened, and even offered to show her his memory of the occurrence. This story took quite awhile, and by the time he had finished telling it and had calmed the other professor down from her hyperventilation, it was time to head down for the feast.

…...

Dumbledore looked out over all of the students in the Great Hall and sighed contentedly. Only three of them were in the hospital wing this Halloween, a new record. He swiveled his head to look at the young Potter boy and smiled. He had not dared to hope, over the last 10 years, that Harry would come to him in such good condition. He had actually imagined the boy would have been treated even worse by his relations, and was quite happy that Harry came out of that ordeal as well as he did.

The headmaster than turned to look at all of his staff, pleased to see Severus and Charity talking in a rather animated fashion about something. He then turned to his left and watched merrily as Pomona swung her fork around, causing a sausage to fly off and whack Minerva on the forehead. He chuckled and looked away before his Deputy Headmistress would catch him laughing at her, and then his smile faded. The doors of the Great Hall were thrown open and Professor Quirrell, whose absence had not gone unnoticed by Dumbledore, ran into the room screaming about trolls.

…...

Severus took off to the third floor, thinking of nothing but stopping Quirrell. He was so absorbed in the hunt that he didn't notice her beside him until he was already to the Third Floor.

"What are you doing here Charity?" He asked, exasperatedly. "The headmaster told the other teachers to go to the dungeons."

"He told me to go with you. In case you needed help." She replied brightly, then noticed where they were and frowned. "Why are we here?"

Snape turned the door handle and ignored the blatant lie she had just told, wondering if it was safe to tell her what was miles below their feet. A growl sounded from the other side, and Charity froze behind him. He turned and gave her a look that might have been mistaken for a smile on another person, and answered her question. "To Protect the Sorcerer's Stone."

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